“Good morning, Lady,” the Elf said, smiling. “Would you and your group like breakfast brought up to your rooms?”

Nobody outside the group needed to know the reason for Hugh’s journey. Pia told the Elf, “I must send a messenger to Charleston right away. I need to know how safe he will be traveling through the Wood.”

The Elf blinked rapidly. “You are the High Lord’s welcome guests,” he said. “The Wood will not harm either you or your messenger, but if you are concerned in any way and can wait for a short while, I’m sure the Lord or Lady would be most happy to send an escort.”

Pia looked at Hugh, who had returned to the room. The gargoyle balanced on the balls of his feet, his long rawboned body coiled with readiness. His sword and crossbow were strapped to his back, and he carried a belt filled with crossbow bolts angled across his chest along with a long knife in a sheath tied to one thigh. He no longer looked sleepy. He looked interested and capable, and very deadly.

Hugh shook his head at Pia’s unspoken inquiry. “I’m good.”

Once again, Pia thought back to the events in May. It had taken Dragos and her several hours to make the journey back to New York, but part of that time had been spent traveling out of an Other land.

If Dragos chose to travel south this morning, there was no guarantee how he would make the journey. If he took the corporate jet, he could hit the Charleston International Airport as soon as two hours from the point of departure. And who knows when he might decide to take off? The only thing she felt confident about was that he would wait as long as possible in case she had simply been very late to bed. Now that morning was officially here, it was possible he was already airborne.

“Go as fast as you can,” Pia said to Hugh. Telepathically, she added, If you don’t get through to Dragos right away, call Graydon or Bayne. She paused. Dammit, there was no way for them to know which sentinel might be fighting when, or if they might be recovering from an injury. Actually, try all the sentinels until you talk to a live person, but don’t just rely on them to pass on a message. Keep trying yourself to get through to Dragos and call to him telepathically as well. He has a much larger telepathic range than anyone else.

All right, Hugh said, frowning. But since I’ve never talked with him telepathically before, I don’t know if I’ll be able to connect.

Exasperated, Pia said, Look, Dragos might already be in South Carolina by the time you get out of the Wood, so just try everything you can to get in touch with him, and don’t stop until you get through and actually talk to him yourself. If you tell him I’m okay, maybe we don’t have to have anything turn into a disaster, all right?

Right, Hugh said.

Eva walked out with Hugh and the Elf. Several minutes later Eva returned alone, and she asked, “Now what?”

Pia had gone to the window to stare out. The early morning was shrouded in a thick veil of fog. She could barely see the water down below. The only details that she could see when she looked toward the horizon were black tree branches that appeared in the dull white fog like dismembered limbs. She shuddered at the thought.

“Now we figure out how to get some breakfast, and I’ll send a request to speak with Calondir,” Pia said. “Maybe either Ferion or Linwe will show us around like Beluviel suggested. And we wait.”

And as for herself, she would be crossing her fingers that the day did not end badly.

• • •

Breakfast turned out to be a simple and social affair. The same Elf from earlier returned to ask if Pia would like food to be brought up to her apartment, or if she would prefer to come down to the main hall. After washing and dressing in a clean pair of jeans and sweater, Pia was more than ready to leave their rooms.

The main hall was quite large with several tables, a high ceiling, more flagstone floors, two fireplaces at either end that were so massive a grown man could walk into the ash pits, and walls that were mostly windows and that provided more views of the river and the forest. The trees and rocky forest floor were dark with moisture and occasional patches of startling green moss, and tendrils of fog drifted along the foaming water at the foot of the falls.

One of the hallways must lead to the kitchens, for a couple of servers moved back and forth from that direction, carrying full trays of breads, fruits and meat to sideboards that were set against one wall. People ate and talked in clusters, sometimes in English but quite often in their lyrical tongue. Most of those in the hall were Elves, but a smattering of other races were also present: a couple of dwarves, three humans with sparks of Power that identified them as witches, and an elderly male medusa whose head snakes trailed a few inches along the floor.

The atmosphere was relaxed and cordial. Pia and her group served themselves and sat at one end of a long table to eat, nodding and smiling at folks as they returned morning greetings. Calondir, Beluviel and Ferion were all absent, and Pia didn’t think any of the Elves in the hall were from Numenlaur.

For one thing, it looked like people knew each other with the ease of long acquaintance. Also, most of them were dressed in a mix of Elvish and modern American clothing, an unlikely combination for someone from an enclave society. Leggings and sneakers seemed to be a popular combination. A few wore leggings, tall boots, tunics and jeans jackets.

Folks looking street chic, Eva remarked in her head. Lookee there. That homeboy got a hoodie.

I have not forgiven you for yesterday, Pia said. Just so we’re clear.

That okay, princess. I surviving juuust fine.

Pia’s gaze slid sideways to Eva, whose wide black gaze remained innocent. She compressed her lips. Clearly Eva needed no encouragement, but she might actually get worse if Pia smiled or laughed.

On the captain’s other side, James, Hugh and Miguel discussed the Sentinel Games. Pia realized they were making bets on who would win through to the final seven positions. Johnny ate silently with quick economy while he drummed the table with the fingers of one hand. No doubt he missed his Angry Birds.

Then she noticed the top of a blue-tipped head weaving its way through a knot of talking people at the other side of the room. Linwe shouldered between two people and walked toward them.

“Oh look, here she come,” crooned Miguel. “I love that girl. I love her.” As Linwe stopped beside their table, smiling, Miguel said to her, “Please tell me you starred in a spring break video called Elf Babes Gone Wild.”

At that both Pia and Eva swiveled to stare at him. Miguel glanced from one unsmiling face to the other. “Come on, I asked her if she was legal,” he said. “She’s thirty.”

Linwe grimaced. “I lied. I’m only sixteen.”

Miguel looked stricken. Eva pointed at him and said, “You gonna get your ass arrested someday. That’s if you lucky, and I don’t beat you to a pulp first.”

Linwe’s bright peal of laughter rang out. Dancing brown eyes met Pia’s. I am actually thirty, but please don’t tell him, Linwe said.

I won’t, Pia promised grimly. He deserves to sweat a little. I apologize for his behavior.

Please don’t feel that’s necessary, Linwe said. I’m at least partway to blame, since I goaded him all day yesterday. Aloud, the Elf said, “I heard you would enjoy a tour.”

“Yes, please, as long as the High Lord can contact me if he becomes available for an audience,” Pia replied.

“If that happens, a runner will find us.”

“Very well.” Pia stood, and all the others stood too. She said to Miguel, “No.” As his face fell, Pia told Eva, “Two on. You pick.”

“Me and Johnny,” Eva said immediately.

“Fine.” She smiled at Linwe. “Thank you for showing us around.”

“That is entirely my pleasure,” Linwe said.

For the next hour Linwe took Pia on a tour of the heart of Lirithriel Wood, while Eva and Johnny followed silently. The High Lord’s house had four levels, two of them deeply carved into bedrock.

By the time they stepped outdoors the fog had dissipated, leaving behind a gray, overcast day. Underneath the heavy blanket of old-growth trees, the landscape itself was full of curves and ridges like the whorls of a fingerprint or a gnarled tree trunk.

Many other small buildings dotted the area, cleverly hidden in nooks between the trees, and Pia was fascinated to find, there were more of the subtle there/not there Elven faces carved into large boulders. She started to look for them in rocks of any size, but several times they still surprised her, one moment hidden and the next moment coming visible.

Throughout the entire tour Pia could feel the crossover passageway, but either the underlying curl of the land itself or the Wood’s presence kept her from pinpointing where it was until suddenly they came upon it.

Pia jerked to a halt, staring. Behind her, Eva and Johnny had to pull up hard to avoid running into her back.

Just ahead the trees opened up to a small clearing where stairs had been carved into the stony ground, leading downward and reshaping the floor of what must have once been a natural ravine. On the other side of the stairs, the walls had also been shaped and carved with a graceful, interlocking pattern. Even though she was standing several yards away, the Power of the passageway tugged at her.

She said, “I’m amazed the sculptors were able to keep their equilibrium long enough in the passageway to carve anything, let alone something so intricate and beautiful.”

Linwe said cheerfully, “They were old.” She grinned as all three Wyr laughed. “I meant that. Our ancients are very strong in their affinity to the elements.”

“Do you have an affinity to an element?” Pia asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Mine is air.” Pia blinked as a sudden breeze tickled her cheek. Linwe said, “I’m quite young, though, and that’s the extent of what I can do. One of our most Powerful ancients could take that same affinity to air and create a storm the size of Hurricane Rita.” The Elf held up a slim hand. “Not that I’m saying that creating a storm of that size would be a good thing. And one or two of our ancients, the ones who are especially gifted, have an affinity to more than one element. Those tend to be compatible with each other. Fire and air. Water and earth. That sort of thing.”

That was the best conversational opening Pia had seen yet, and she took it. “Speaking of ancients, I hear that Elves from Numenlaur are visiting.”

A shadow darkened Linwe’s animated expression. “Yes, although very few people have seen them. They have been closeted away ever since they arrived. I heard one of them might be ill.”

Whatever Pia might have expected to hear, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t aware Elves could suffer from illness. “I’m sorry.”

Linwe shrugged a slender shoulder. “It’s gossip. I don’t know anything for sure.”

“Do your ancients ever talk about why they warred with each other?” Pia asked.

Johnny and Eva’s silence grew more intense. When she looked over her shoulder, the other two Wyr stood several feet away and appeared to be studying the carved patterns in the passageway.

She could also tell by Linwe’s wide-eyed glance that she had surprised the other woman. “You know of that?”

It was her turn to shrug. How much should she admit to knowing? Keep it simple, stupid. She said, “Dragos is my mate.”

That seemed to have more impact than she had expected. Linwe’s eyes rounded, and she took a deep breath and blew it out so that her blue-tipped bangs bounced in the air. “Yes, of course,” Linwe said. “Then you must know of the Deus Machinae.”

The whosie whatsit?

Pia smiled. She said, “I don’t know the details of the story the way you learned it.”

Either Linwe didn’t notice that Pia was pumping her for information or she didn’t care. The Elf said, “I was taught that there are things on this Earth, Powerful things that were put here by the gods to enact their will. They have had many forms and have been called many names over time, but ever since the time of the classic Greek poets—Horace, Euripides, Aeschylus and such—they have been called the Deus Machinae, or the God Machines.”

Pia shook her head and murmured, “I haven’t had much of a classical education, but wasn’t the deus ex machina a plot device in Greek plays?”

Linwe’s gaze touched hers briefly. “Yes, it literally means the ‘god from the machine.’ Anyway at one point, or so I’ve heard the story go, the Elves had possession of all seven of the Deus Machinae at once, and they agreed this was a significant event. Then they began to argue about which of them was meant to rule and how.”

“I take it that didn’t go so well,” Pia said dryly.

“No, not so well. Some said the one who possessed Taliesin’s Machine was destined to rule, for Taliesin is the god over all the other gods. Others said, no, Inanna, the goddess of Love, should reign supreme. Or perhaps Azrael, the god of Death. Or the bearer of Hyperion’s item, since Law is the cornerstone of any civilization. Whether it was their ambition or the Power of the Machinae themselves, the ancients couldn’t agree. Instead they—we—came to blows. Apparently we nearly destroyed ourselves.”

“Dragos said it caused a diaspora,” she said softly.

Linwe glanced at her. “Yes, those who survived finally came together and made a covenant. They split into seven groups, and each group took an item. Numenlaur was one of them. The other six groups promised to travel far away from each other, so that they would dissipate the Power of the Machinae, and end the war and all the chaos that had come with it. All seven groups were supposed to cast their items into the world, letting the gods’ will work where it would.”